Authors: Pauline M. Ross
“I don’t think so.”
“You’ve never done anything like this? Unintentionally?”
“No, never. I can’t. At least, I’m fairly sure I can’t. And – if it’s magic, it’s illegal, isn’t it? The penalty for unauthorised use is—”
“Death, potentially. I know.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s not as if I
choose
to do it. It just happens. And these blue lights you see – that’s not something you choose, either. Tell me about them.”
“There’s not much to tell. They come and go, flaring up then disappearing almost at once. Sometimes it’s just the faintest blue haze, sometimes it’s darker, a really vivid blue.”
“But what does it mean?” His voice was calm, but he was very persistent.
“It’s just emotion of some kind. I’ve never worked out a pattern. Some people are more prone to it, with others it never happens.”
“Is it an hour, a situation, always in sunlight, anything like that?”
Good questions. I thought about it. “Not that I’ve noticed. It’s when people are talking, but it can be any time or place.”
“Fascinating! And did you ever tell anyone about it?”
I’d mentioned it, of course. I’d asked my mother what it meant, once, when I was quite small and she’d just cuffed me lightly on the ear and told me to get out from underfoot. I’d guessed that it was one of those subjects adults didn’t like to talk about, perhaps something not quite polite. Once I’d mentioned it to Alita, the sister I was closest to, and she’d looked at me sideways and told me to get my head out of Mother’s books and join the real world. I didn’t know what she meant, but if even she wouldn’t talk about it, then it must be very bad, so I never raised the subject again. I was good at keeping quiet.
“So no one else sees it?” I asked Drei.
“I can’t be sure, but I certainly don’t, and I’ve never seen any reference to it anywhere. This is so interesting!” His dark eyes were alight with enthusiasm. “We must experiment – walk about town or sit in taprooms, and you can tell me when you see it, and we’ll try to work out what it means.”
It was a lot to take in, all at once. My head was spinning, thinking about this aura, and now perhaps my blue lights, which I’d always supposed were so mundane, were significant in some way. It was bewildering.
“I don’t understand,” I said stupidly. “I mean – what makes me this way? What am I? What are
we
?”
He looked amused by my confusion. “I can’t be certain, but I think we are both natural mages. Wild mages, some people call them. We have magic inside us. That is part of why I want to go to Kingswell, to find out more about it. There is very little information here, only that such people appear from time to time, without any obvious reason, that they have an aura – the golden glow – and certain abilities. Clearly the abilities are more variable than I’d thought. There used to be a lot of such people, and they were properly trained and so forth, but it’s very rare now. I’ve only ever seen five such people, in my whole life, and three of those were fleeting, just chance encounters who came and went, almost before I was aware of them. But you – I’ve followed you ever since we met at your village years ago, do you remember?” I nodded. “I hoped you would become a law scribe, so you would have access to more information through their library, but obviously that is not going to happen now. You never had anything odd happen before?”
“Before?”
“Before you spelled your sister, I mean.”
“But I didn't! That—” I stopped. Was it possible? I thought about some of the odd things that had happened – the healing spellpage which shouldn’t have worked, yet it did; the mistakes I knew I’d made which corrected themselves at once; the dancing letters which only I could see.
“Have you ever watched a spellpage being scribed?” I said, leaning towards him excitedly.
“A few times, yes.”
“And do the letters shimmer?”
“Of course – oh!” His expression was full of astonishment. “You mean, not everyone sees that?”
And then, suddenly, the terrible realisation. My hands flew to my face.
“Oh no! No! It can't be!” My voice was the tiniest whisper.
“Tell me,” he said gently.
“I think I killed the Asha-Kellon.”
“What? You scribed a death spellpage? Well good, she deserved it.”
“I was just practising, but I put her name on it. Oh...”
He put an arm round me and I wept on his shoulder, while he said, “Ssshh, hush, it’s all right,” helplessly. I thought of all the little things over the years, going right back to watching the scribe when I was eight. I had always been drawn to the magic – spellpages, the mirror room, the marble pillar at the renewal. And now I knew what had gone wrong with that – instead of the energy being drawn through Cal into his stone vessel and spilling over into me, I had drawn it into me, thus leaving less for him. I had been so energised afterwards. My aura was brighter, Drei had said. And I had spelled my sister with a fake spellpage. I wondered what else I could do.
“You’re right,” I said, lifting my head abruptly. “I need to find out more about this, about what I am – what we are. May I come to Kingswell with you?”
He grinned boyishly. “Of course.”
“But how? What as?”
“As my research assistant, if you like. But you are not a scholar, so if you want to get into the Imperial Library with me, you will need noble rank. That means you would have to be my drusse. But we wouldn't have to sleep together or anything,” he added hastily.
I laughed at that. Another man unaffected by my womanly charms, such as they were.
“Drusse it is, then,” I said.
“Excellent. We leave with the Drashon’s party in two suns.” He grinned at me. “This is going to be so much fun!”
This time I scribed my own drusse contract. I shouldn’t say so, but it was rather an elegant affair, more succinct than is usual in such cases. We settled for seven moons, with no children and an astonishingly high allowance for me.
Drei had no idea where to go, so I took him to Mani’s Scribing House, and various juniors raced around to find someone of suitably high rank to deal with it. Mani could have witnessed and sealed it himself, of course, but with Drei being the Kellon’s son and Bai-Kellonor, they wanted to accord the process due reverence. Eventually, in front of a crowd of scribes agog with excitement, the business was completed and we went to the Contracts’ Hall to have it registered. Because of his rank, this was not a mere matter of handing over the contract and paying the appropriate silvers. There were more forms to be signed and sealed and sent off with all haste to the Hall and then to Kingswell.
Cal was upset, but he bade me farewell graciously. He had a date set already for his next renewal, only a couple of moons away.
“I shall have to find a new drusse,” he said glumly.
“You still have Raylan,” I said, rather unkindly. “He'd be happy to oblige.”
He winced, but said nothing else. When I had gathered my few possessions together, and the Hall servants had loaded them into a wagon and were waiting to depart, he hugged me tight for a long time.
“I’ll still be here when you get back,” he said. Then, plaintively, “If you get back, I mean. I wish you well, Kyra. I always have, despite – Well, never mind that. You know you will always have a friend in me. Friend or – whatever you want.”
As I rode off in the wagon, he stood on outside the door unmoving, his face a picture of misery, until I lost sight of him.
~~~~~
For two suns, I lived at the Hall in the vast suite that was Drei’s home, with my own bedroom. We ate evening board with the Kellon and Deyria, Bellastria, and a whole array of relations and advisors and visiting dignitaries.
The Kellon greeted me formally, but made no comment on the new arrangement. A drusse was not a matter of much interest. Sooner or later, I supposed, Drei would be married to some high ranking noble woman to forge or enhance a political bond but a drusse was a personal affair, a whim. However solid the contract, it could be overturned instantly if it became inconvenient, and mine was very short term. It might raise an eyebrow or two, but no one at the Hall would even bother to remember my name. I would be ‘Drei’s drusse’ and nothing more. That suited me very well.
The Drashon’s party returning to Kingswell was the same huge array of people I’d seen arrive not so long before. Then I had been waiting in trepidation to hear my fate. Now I was just a tiny part of the company. Drei had organised a carriage for me, and we had our own honour guard and wagon full of luggage and servants. I’d had no time to acquire more clothes, but Drei had written ahead and an expensive tailor would be expecting us when we arrived at Kingswell.
“You will need proper clothes for the court assemblies,” he said, after he’d frowned over my limited wardrobe.
“Do I have to wear skirts?”
My face must have shown my reluctance, for he laughed. “No need, if you dislike the idea. The azai is very elegant and entirely appropriate for formal occasions, and simple tunic and trousers for ordinary wear. Do you ride? You will need leather gear for that. I’ll get you a horse when we get there. Don’t look so worried, I’ll pay for all this. You are the Kellon’s representative, too, so you need to look the part.”
It took us more than a ten-sun to travel to Kingswell. Despite the numbers journeying, everything was very well organised. Each overnight stop, time of departure and the place of every rider and vehicle in the caravan – all was meticulously planned. We were far back in the order, well behind the Drashon and his various relatives, then those of Durshalon rank and even behind most of the representatives of other Kellons. Drei might be an important person in Ardamurkan, but the Bai-Kellonor of the seventh ranked Kellon of the fifth Kell-Durshalon was not of great significance in the realm of Bennamore.
My departure from Ardamurkan in a luxurious carriage, the drusse of the Bai-Kellonor, was very different from my arrival three years earlier, perched on a turnip wagon. Durmaston seemed very distant to me now. I hadn’t visited this year because of my trial, and last year I’d been too excited about having a mage patron, so it was two years since I’d seen most of my family, apart from Deyria. I seldom even heard news of them, for Mother never wasted coin on messages if she could help it.
Now I was leaving even my sister behind. I felt a pang of regret for her as she wept all over me before I left. It was sad to see her dreams turned to dust, for the spell on her was so strong it might never wear off, but I’m ashamed to say I had forgotten her before we reached the first marker post.
Drei usually rode on such journeys, but he chose to sit in the carriage with me, keeping me entertained with all the most scurrilous rumours about the people we travelled with. He was a terrible gossip, I discovered, and liked nothing better than to speculate on who was having an affair with whom, and who was pretending to be friendly while harbouring active dislike. He was very good company.
He always managed to get hold of a basket of fruits or sweetmeats for the carriage – “You never know when the next meal will be,” he explained – and there was a flask or two of wine or ale, as well as water. He pointed out all the landmarks we passed, and explained their histories: the battles, the revolts, the crop failures and epidemics and migrations. I was as astonished as he was at how little I knew. My education must have been sadly lacking, but Drei set out to inform me.
We left each morning at a reasonable time, but as the sun progressed the long line of travellers became increasingly strung out, so we generally arrived late in the evening, exhausted and hungry. There was always a bath, a hot meal and a comfortable bed awaiting us. Mostly we stayed at inns, occasionally we descended on the hall of some hapless Kellon or Durshalon, but every location was carefully chosen and provided with sufficient accommodation even for our large party, plus large dormitories for the numerous guards, servants, wagon drivers, and various other essential retainers.
Drei hadn’t so much as touched me yet. I wasn’t sure why he professed to be uninterested. Perhaps he preferred men, or maybe he thought it was what I wanted. I hadn’t done anything about it at Ardamurkan, but I knew the journey would give me a chance to test his resolve to stay away from me.
The first night was an inn, but we were allocated a bedroom with an attached dressing room with a single bed, and Drei took himself off there to sleep, without discussion. The second night he was ill with a bad headache, so he retired early and was asleep before I went to bed.
But the third night we had just the one room with a massive double bed; a good opportunity, I thought, to find out whether he truly had no interest in me as a bed-partner. I undressed slowly, not flaunting myself, exactly, but giving him time to notice. He watched me covertly from the opposite corner of the room, keeping his head down while his eyes slid in my direction constantly. I could see his erection from across the room.
“You go to bed,” he said, trying not to look at me. “I think I might read for a while.”
I crossed the room to stand in front of him. “Don’t you want a little bed-play?”
The look on his face when he lifted his head was pure panic. “I don’t think... Kyra, I... No, I said I wouldn’t.”
“I’m your drusse. It’s part of the deal, and I don’t mind.”
I thought perhaps if he touched me, if I could slide his hand inside my bed-gown to rest on my breast – then I would find out what he wanted. I reached out for him but to my horror some kind of warmth passed between us. I jumped back, shocked, dropping his hand.
“What was that?” he whispered, eyes wide.
“You felt it too?” It was some kind of magical tingle between us, like an echo of the feeling from the marble pillar in the renewal room. It was very slight, but enough for both of us to notice it. “It’s magic of some sort.”
“Magic? Oh.” He seemed disappointed. “It’s not a normal response, then? For – you know, a man and woman.”
“No.” The idea amused me. Sex might be more fun if there was always magic involved. “Although – at the renewal, something like that happened.” Something like that – such prosaic words for an experience entirely beyond words.
“Can I try it again?”
He touched my hand, let go, touched it again, let go again. Each time there was a little buzz, which then died away. “That’s nice,” he said.
I took his hand and firmly pushed it onto my breast. “So – bed?”
The panicked look was back in an instant. “Kyra – I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I’d love to, but...” He hung his head, almost as if he were ashamed. “I daren’t risk it. I don’t know what might happen. If I lose control.”
“Oh. The fires?” He nodded. “So you’ve never—? But haven’t you even – you know, done it yourself?”
A shake of the head. He looked abjectly miserable. Poor, poor Drei. My brothers would have gone insane without an untiring right hand. They’d spent their early years of adulthood single-mindedly pursuing any woman who seemed likely to lift her skirts for them. Yet Drei, who must have had every ambitious serving maid at the Hall trying to crawl into his bed, could never allow himself to be seduced. Not once.
“Well. That
is
a problem. We’ll just have to find a place with nothing you can set on fire. Then we can experiment.”
“The middle of a desert, maybe?” His wan smile cut me to the heart. There was so little I could do for him to repay his generosity, and even that little was denied me. We climbed into bed, lying so close but facing away from each other. I don’t think either of us slept.
~~~~~
On the fourth sun we crossed the Taysil River, a wide and tranquil waterway with a line of barges being towed upstream along one bank, while the swift current in the centre allowed a more rapid passage in the opposite direction. The bridge was stone-built, one of seven such, Drei told me, with an eighth under construction to the east. After a brief glimpse of open sky and many waterside buildings, to my disappointment we were soon enclosed by pine forest again.
On the seventh sun, the scenery changed. The heavy pine forests gave way abruptly to spindly trees with pale bark and slender leaves that rustled in the breeze, dry and browning this late in the year. Here and there stands of more solid trees, with thick trunks and wide crowns, some heavy with nuts, provided shade. Even I, in my ignorance, had heard of the sudden transition to the northern reaches of Bennamore. I asked Drei why this part was so different, doubting he would know. To my amazement he explained that the soil was different, and when we next stopped, he found a bare patch to show me.
“Do you see? It’s sandy, poor soil, and this pale colour means it was formed from sea shells.”
“Shells? But we’re nowhere near the sea!”
He laughed at my ignorance. “I know, but nevertheless it’s true. And the soil won’t hold water, so that limits what kind of trees can grow. There are lakes here, though, and the bigger trees grow around the water.”
“How did you learn so much?”
“I had very good tutors. They taught me this and much more besides.”
“Why would you need to know about soil? You’re not a farmer.”
“No, but I’m noble born and I might one year be a ruler. I need to understand everything about the land I rule over.”
“You’re never going to rule over northern Bennamore, though, are you? You don’t need to know about
this
soil.”
“You never know what might happen,” he answered seriously. “Besides, I might marry someone from here.”
That was true enough. He was only twenty-four, and although he was going to Kingswell to find a spouse for Bellastria, he could easily acquire one for himself.
Northern Bennamore was very pleasant country, with gentle hills, lush green valleys and still pools of reed-fringed water. There were innumerable tiny deer and huge rodents, enabling our guards to practise their archery and fill the stew-pots for evening board at the same time. The carriage was uncomfortably hot in the afternoons, and Drei and I dozed the hours away, but as evening drew on we needed a rug to keep the chill at bay. Drei was quite happy to snuggle up to me for warmth, and he liked to hold my hand or rest his face against my bare neck. It gave him the little magic buzz, and made him feel better, he said. It wasn’t the kind of touching I’d expected, but if it gave him comfort I was glad of it.
Before too long the hills began to flatten, and as each little rise gave us a view over the land beyond, a dark mass appeared on the horizon, with a pale ribbon of road leading directly there. We were within sight of Kingswell. Gradually the amorphous dark mass dissolved into three clear shapes: the solid red of the King’s Keep, the brown stain of the town around it, and, nestled in the arms of a single mountain behind, a small golden blob. For the first time I didn’t need Drei to explain what I saw, for even in my village at the other end of the realm I had heard of Candle Mountain and the Imperial City.
The last sun of our journey was the longest, with one delay after another, so it was close to midnight when our wagon rolled through the town’s streets and into the Keep. I had been half asleep for hours, so even though it was brightmoon, I saw nothing except great red walls punctuated by many windows rising above me before Drei bundled me inside. Servants scurried around and in no time we were shown to our apartment, hot food was brought and baths were being filled. Drei sat quietly in a chair, eyes closed, until the servants vanished and peace descended.